Mine
by EricsGraciousPlenty
Summary: What happens when Sookie is the focus of a sexcapade? Will everyone else endure? Rated M for Lemony-squeezed Adult Situations and for moments of extreme silliness. You have been warned. AV
1. The Knocker

_**AN: **__Hey peeps! It's me, EGP! *waves within FF-land* _

I've had more than a few ideas strumming in my head and well they're huddling together and making my head ache! So I'll have to purge here. Be kind. This is my first fic. Many thanks to my second pair of eyes, and FarDareisMai2. Love y'all! Oh. Did I mention there's a slight whiff of lemons. *grin*

_**All characters belong to Charlaine Harris. No copyright infringement is intended.**_

_**I just like to fondle the Viking's jewels.**_

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__Present day Louisiana

_(approx. date: October 2nd)_

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Louisiana. The evening is brisk and cool. The wind is blowing in my long tresses. I relish it. I love evenings such as these. The thrill of the hunt, the thrill of a new feed. _Mmmm. _

That cute and juicy Goth girl with the enormous bosoms was unusually quite savory. I lick my lips at the thought of taking her again.

My feet finally set on the front porch steps of the old, white farmhouse. The paint is peeling on the exterior, just another subtle reminder of the inevitable decay of humans. When will she move to the city? It is not safe here in the confines of this wilderness. She is so stubborn.

I hear the lolling sounds of a heart beat. As she walks towards the door, the sounds are getting heavier and faster. I knock at said intended door. "Who is it?" she asks with a slight trepidation.

"Honestly Sookie, you well know who I am." _Humans. _I can't help but roll my eyes.

She opens the door. "Oh. Hi there." Sookie looks at me with surprise. She is staring at me. Her face full of questions of which I can only imagine. The vixen shakes her head slightly returning to the present and seemingly remembering her Southern manners. "Won't you come in?"

"Thank you," I reply with a slight smile; my eyes taking in her full appearance. There she is, my blue-eyed lovely. Her hair a golden flax, much like mine. She looks nearly ethereal. My angel. _Mine._

She looks down embarrassed and faux coughs while I scan the interior for possible intruders. I find nothing really out of the ordinary. It is Sookie's home. The old furnishings are quaint but seemingly comfortable covered in pale, soft colors befitting the Southern belle in my midst. I make a mental note to contact my decorator to find replicas of these articles. It would be fun to recreate this space for a little play, say in Fangtasia on a Monday, when we are closed for business. I wickedly smile at my deviousness. _She will not escape._ My fangs lower a little in anticipation.

She clears her throat. "Umm. What can I do for you?" She seems frustrated and for a second I detect a little forlorn, that is until her composure quickly snaps into typical, "Sookie, the hostess" mode.

"I'm sorry. Where are my manners? Can I get you a blood? I think I still may have one or two since y'all were last here," she mumbles the last sentence to herself.

I nod and head towards the flowery couch. Hmmm. I like these pillows. I finger the fabric slowly. So soft. Soft like the dirty pillows of my Sookie. So voluptuous. So full. So ready for me. I chuckle. _She is mine._

I can hear her rummaging through her fridge as she calls out from the kitchen that she has the night off from the shifter's workplace. I smile.

"I was just going to curl up and watch a movie tonight," she adds.

"Do you mind if I join you, dear one?" I whisper in her ear as she jumps startled from my position looming over her, pinning her between myself and the open refrigerator.

"Oh my!" she sighs. Her heart is beating faster. Her breath is ragged as my hips press against her lower spine whilst my hands are indenting her voluptuous, juicy rump. There is no place I'd rather be. _Mine._

"I don't understand," she cries softly. _What is there to understand? I'm here.  
_

My left hand reaches for her bosom and finds a home enveloping each one of her taught nipples between my fingers. _Aahh. _My other hand snakes around her torso and deftly slides down. My mouth twitches. _Yes. Wet. For. Me. _

A finger rolls up her sleek folds. She murmurs incomprehensibly. _Yes. _My thumb meanwhile rubs down her fluffy mound and reaches her apex. So sleek. Indeed.

My fingers move with a mind of their own. Round and round. _Ohhhhh. _The only sounds are those of liquidy squishes and her heart pumping faster and faster. The toothsome smell of her arousal promoting the descension of my all-to-ready fangs. My thirst will not be denied. Not tonight.

In my blood lust-filled haze, I lower my mouth to her neck and clamp on in a ravenous state. So sweet. So tender. Mana for the gods. _Aaahhh._

"PAMELA! What Are you doing?" The voice awakens me.

_Crap._

_Eric._

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**AN: ***bites nails* So what did you think? Remember, this is only my first fic. Be gentle. Should I continue it? At the moment, Eric is speaking to me. I think this may have a few chapters.

Would you like to read more? Let me know. Press that little green button! _**Reviews are like Eric's giant hands all over your torso ;)**_


	2. The Multitasker

**AN: **Thank you all for the kind words of encouragement, your messages and your alerts. I certainly appreciate it! To make up for my long absence, the Viking is making an appearance along with some lemony zest. I know it's short. However, I'm already writing the next chapter. Ok. Are we all cool now? :)

Btw, this is unbeta'd, as this is an ungodly hour. So, all mistakes are solely mine.

**Again, I own nothing. I just like to stroke the Viking.**

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_Fangtasia._

_Two weeks prior to present day, (approx. date: September 18th)._

"Ohh P-a-m," Eric sung, while he used his muscular biceps to raised himself from his desk.

He had been diligently working on the week's payroll when all of a sudden he was moved (read: bored) enough to look up, especially when his ear's caught a little moan escape from Pam's lips.

It sounded like she was feeding. With a whiff through his nostrils, he could smell something akin to her fragrant arousal.

The problem herein was that Pam was sitting in his office _alone, _working on Fangtasia's merchandise orders. Within a flash, he was towering directly over her body. It was time to set his child straight. He let her get away with far too much.

Eric could clearly see that Pam was not working but in fact in the midst of her downtime, taking a cat-nap on company time. "She is lazy, but loyal," Eric reminded himself.

Before he could reprise the reproach playing in his head, another moan escaped her lips.

She seemed to be unaware that he was directly overhead of her.

"How odd," thought Eric, "that her senses do not react to me being so close to her. I _am _her maker."

He stared at her void of expression.

Meanwhile, her heated scent filled the room.

Curiously, Eric lowered himself into a kneeling stance in front of her.

Pam was sitting wearing his favorite burgundy leather corset that accentuated her rather full breasts. Eric was a boob man and he liked to have his breasts upright and perky, just ready for the grabbing (if he so felt inclined). Her tight matching skirt and killer Betsy Johnson fuck-me pumps completed her Morticia-of-the-night ensemble. Eric's eyes glazed over watching Pam's opened-legged position, which naturally made her skirt ride up her creamy thighs making it very short, indeed. From his current position, it was rather apparent that Pam still had an affinity for shaving her pussy in the shape of a target. He quietly laughed to himself, showing a little fang.

It had been many years since Eric and Pam had been lovers. After the first 50 years, they'd gone their separate ways sexually. He onto the hordes of woman (and a few lucky men) that pursued him, and she onto the other gender – women. He'd always been fond of her aroused state and her fanned-out labia was just an open invitation to rehash old times, Eric thought, as his long middle finger trailed up and down her folds. She was slick. Very slick, indeed.

His member suddenly twitched aching to be inside his woman.

With one hand he teased Pam's engorged lips and with the other he texted Sookie's phone.

Eric took pride in being a multi-tasker.

_Lover, be awaiting my presence after your shift. We shall be traveling by air this night. I do hope you took a nap earlier. I may have you up very late. - E_

He tickled Pam's nub with his thumb and made obscenely fast circles around her mound, thus making her wail in ecstasy. This pleased him greatly. With a devilish look, Eric licked his soaking thumb clean before placing it back and tasting the juices of her folds. "Delicious," he licked his lips. "Just like the old days," he wickedly thought.

A quick glance to his gracious plentiness confirmed that he still had another half-hour to finish his business before he'd leave to pick up Sookie. He'd be busting at the seams by then. His lover would be quite appreciative. Of that, he was quite sure.

Arching his brow, he decided to add another test.

"Oh P-a-m. I have two meals for you. One in each hand. Both young, juicy and quite palatable," he lasciviously breathed in her ear.

Her perfectly-painted mouth opened slightly and her tongue darted lightly across her full lips.

"Uggghh," she moaned again. Pam's lower body was soaking in her own juices by now as Eric's fingers continued to stroke Pam's folds without abandon.

He was a _very_ good master.

As his thumb did a final hard press on her womanly bundle of nerves, the howling vampiress arched her back into such a violent arc that she nearly knocked him off his feet. Needless to say, Pam was in a good place. All thanks to Eric, "I give multiple orgasms" Northman.

Her pale, petite fingers started to gently maul the air in front of her, almost like a kitten. "M-i-n-e," she elongated her throaty call and started hissing in S's. "S-s-s-s-s-s-o-"

His eyebrow arched in response.

Eric did a very human gesture and loudly cleared his throat. It was time to awaken his progeny.

At this sound, Pam abruptly opened her eyes out of her stupor and tried to compose herself quickly as vampiricly possible.

"_I'm all wet. What the fuck_?" she quietly mimed.

Her thoughts were reeling back and forth within herself.

As most days at work, Eric was bored. He'd already stretched his long, muscular legs behind his desk by the time she'd looked up. She uncharacteristically squeaked, "S-sorry Master. I must check on the bar."

She couldn't look him in the eye.

"Again?" she thought to herself.

"SHIT. What happened? What _did_ he hear?"

This was rather disconcerting. Pam liked to be in control. And in this, she was powerless.

Out in the hall, Pam studiously twirled her black leather bracelet that in pink read, "WWAD?"

"Oh Abby, what would you do?" she mumbled to herself.

A few feet away an emaciated, androgynous Goth boy was eyeing Pam like she was the smokiest, juiciest cut of beef at the Sizzler and he was holding up waving the $100 gift certificate he saved from his birthday. It was nights such as these that Pam hated working at the club. Fangtasia had it's many perks (read: blood & sex on tap), but the wanton desperateness that oozed by both the fangbangers and the tourists was the proverbial fly in her bloody ointment.

He was heading in her direction.

"Great," she rolled her eyes.

"Miss Pam," he licked his lips, "you do look divine this evening," he drawled. Pam was in no mood for this. . .this. . .what did Sookie call them? Hicks. Yes, that was it. Hicks.

She venomously flashed her fangs at him and spat, "Out of my way, vermin!"

With his heart racing a thousand miles a minute, the poor boy did the fastest walking U-turn in human history. It was good to remind them, that yes, vampires _were_ beautiful but they were _also_ lethal as well.

Now that she was free from distraction, Pam was finally free to lurk in the shadows and unzip her cleavage enough to take out a miniature pink notebook along with a very sharpened, wooden pencil from within her leather corset. In Pam's line of work, you never knew who could post a threat, so it was reassuring to know that her boobs were mighty deadly.

It was time to involve the big guns.

Pam started putting thoughts to paper.

_Dear Abby. . ._

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**AN: **OK. Smutty much? _*LOL_* What can I say? Pam is one of my favorite SVM characters. She and Eric are like The Wonder Twins. "Activate!" :)

I would really love your input. Believe me we _are_ going somewhere with this story. It's not just gratuitous smut. _*bites lip*_ Ok. Some of it _is_, but not entirely! Hey, I'm honest. If you had access to a kneeling Eric, you'd go there too!

**Press that blue button and tell me what you think!**

**Reviews are like Eric's long, meaty, fingers on your. . . ;)**


	3. The MadHatter

**AN: **I apologize for the very long wait. RL has been crazy (and I got icky writer's block). However, now I'm back and will try to make regular updates. I would suggest you re-read the previous two chapters, to re-aquaint yourselves with the timeline, which is pretty pretty important. I think I've fixed that up on those chapters. I've been having problems with the formatting, so if you got multiple update alerts. Sorry! I'm still such a novice and this chappie is beta-free unfortunately.

_**Again, I own nothing **(save for the one cutesy college boy)**. I just like to go flying with Eric, as he spins us around the moon and back.  
**_

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Fangtasia. Two weeks prior to present day (approx. date: September 18th).

_Dear Abby,_

_It started all so innocently-well as innocent as a vampire could be (which I guess IS saying something)._

_My master had been fawning over this one human for so long. Normally, I'd watch entranced when he played with his food. Everything I know, I owe to My Master. He has always had a wonderful joie-de-vivre, which incidentally is what attracted him to make me in his image. Like child, like maker._

_I digress. However, back to his meals. . .this human wasn't like the other bloodbags; she was free-spirited, defiant and bold when it counted. Over time, the combination of her sweetness, wit and tenacity seemed to warm my icy exterior. She reminded me of another human from long ago-Me. _

[What? Can't I reminisce? My master would not look upon it kindly. He has always taught me that closing the chapter on our previous human lives was essential to our survival.

I do understand. I would never want to be human again. I've always enjoyed being a vampire and having supremacy over others. They're just humans, after all.]

_However, something about this particular human made me want to be such a girly girl. I wanted to cavort with her and do what girls do best: applying makeup on one another, braiding each other's hair and then delightfully suckling each other's bosoms. _[That would do quite nicely. I tongued my right fang with a gleam in my eye]

"Wait," Pam said to herself and sighed internally. "This will not do!"

She crushed the papers within her hands and stuffed them in the nooks & crannies of her cleavage.

It was time to pull herself together emotionally, for this was not befitting someone of her stature. For the love of Sandman, she was Eric's child. She had a reputation to uphold!

Casually reaching into her right patent leather boot, she pulled out her tiny, metallic pink phone and typed a quick message and let the IM reach it's destination.

Unnervingly, ten feet away from where she stood, a group of oily college kids were oggling her frontal assets. She really disliked it when people abused that much product in their hair. _Ugh. Get a life greasy vermin._

PamInWonderland:_ Find me Dear Abby scrapbooks A-Z. Might as well add the contact information as well._

Ten minutes later she received this reply:

MadHatter:_ Just waking up from a nap. Will arrange everything necessary for your perusal. What time may I expect you?_

Good. He was available.

PamInWonderland:_ I'm tying up some loose ends here. . .Wait. A nap? Didn't you have a date tonight?_

MadHatter:_ HAD being the operative word. She canceled on me._

PamInWonderland:_ If I find that wench, I will make mince meat out of her! :( Oh. Oh. The natives are getting restless. Time to show off the goods. We'll talk tonight, ok._

Pam closed her phone and took a stroll around the perimeter.

"_MadHatter."_ How she loved the name. Thinking about it made her grin.

Thinking about the MadHatter made her internally smile, which filled her undead heart with a warmth she'd lost long, long ago.

He liked to tease her that she was "Alice in Wonderland 2.0", the vamp version, due to her eccentric taste in hobbies and natural disposition towards pinks and mauves. She silently giggled.

Snapping his phone shut, the Madhatter closed his eyes for a moment and tried to reach out with his senses in the direction of the club. Pam had been acting different lately. Distracted. Something was just plain off, which was enough to unsettle him this evening. He reopened his phone and IM'd:

MadHatter_: G.P. Is needed. Will you share?_

One minute later an answer filled his hand.

SweeTea_: But I haven't had my fill all day. Get your own G.P._

Oh this was good.

Madhatter_: Well You've Got Mine! And by the way, that's just gross. :P_

SweeTea: _:P_

Madhatter: _Don't stick your tongue out at me, sista. I don't know where it's been!_

More giggling ensued.

Madhatter closed his phone and went to start a hot bath. No sense in waiting for something that wasn't going to happen anytime soon.

Thirty minutes later, his phone rang. A smooth, familiar voice slowly filled his ear, "I. Am. Here."

The voice added, "How was your evening? Did you have to invade mine?"

Madhatter swallowed. Eric hated getting interrupted.

"My apologies then. It's Saturday, I knew you'd be over there and..." He hastily added, "Please, give my regards to Sookie." There was silence.

"Aw, come on Eric. Sookie loves me. We IM all the time. Don't be upset, please."

Eric finally answered, "Don't you think you've exhausted the G.P. enough. It's one thing to have my lover use it. . .but you, too!" "Patterson, what am I going to have to do to you?" Eric bellowed.

_Gulp._ Even more silence. Patterson's face was losing color rather fast. Yelling would be easier to tolerate than this tormenting silence. Panic was setting in.

"Eric," he began to whisper. However, just after he heard his name, the Viking blurted over the receiver, "Gotcha!"

"Pat. Are you there? What is wrong? Did you not find it amusing?"

"Um. Yes." Color filled his face now that oxygen was fully returning to his body.

Eric could feel the change in Patterson's breath. "You look as if you did not enjoy it."

"Yes. Of course, I was excessively diverted," Patterson mumbled.

"Liar." Eric contorted his long, taut body toards the left to stretch out his massive shoulders, in a feline move. "What's up?"

Patterson, not wanting to appear weak was thinking of saying, "nothing." However, worry was overriding his faux-macho bravado. He admitted, "It's Pam. Have you noticed anything strange about her lately?"

Eric was adjusting his lapels when he declared, "This is Pam we're discussing. She reads Dear Abby, devotes hours upon hours to Martha Stewart television programs and ensconces herself in un-vampire pink colors. She's already strange." His golden strands flew around his neck a bit.

"Did you know that prior to making my child, I had no idea what a Martha Stewart was? I almost wish I was left in the dark. Did you know she even has the magazines coming to the club?" Eric's voice altered slightly higher, "The club, Patti!"

"The waitresses seem to be enjoying the bat and skeleton crafts during their breaks. It does keep them out of trouble, I suppose," he snorted aloud.

He smiled at the phone. This is why he loved talking to Eric. It seemed no matter what was happening in his life, Eric always had a way of grounding him and making him feel secure.

"Thanks, old man."

"Think nothing of it," Eric smiled back. "How was your date? Couldn't have been that good if you've been worrying about Miss-I-Love-Pink," he deadpanned.

"Is nothing ever quiet around here? Geesh." Looking embarrassed, Patterson covered his face with a small pillow next to him.

"Geesh?" You got that saying from my Sookie, did you not?" Eric chuckled.

"Well, I've pick up heaps of Americanism's and Southern colloquialisms from her. She is a good teacher. We spoke and texted several times a week when I was away at university, you know."

_No, I didn't know. _"I was aware that you were in contact with her. Yes." Eric mentally wondered why his lover had not disclosed this information before. He needed details.

"Does it feel strange to be back?" Eric inquired.

"I was only gone 5 years and I'm glad to be done with it, quite frankly," remarked Patterson. "Plus, I missed. . . You should know, England does not feel like home any longer," his thoughts trailed to the last few years without those closest to him.

"By the way, thanks again for FedExing that Fangtasia merchandise every couple of months. It was a huge hit on campus, especially with the fairer sex," he grinned.

"Anything to get you laid, my boy!" Eric returned his grin.

"Plus, it couldn't hurt business advertising overseas, correct?"

Eric's voice was smooth as the softest raw silk when he added, "After all, those UK co-eds have to _come_ some time, don't they?"

Poor Patterson hadn't gotten much action sexually in quite a spell and hearing those words uttered just made his dangly bits tingle with need. That's when the bottle he was holding slipped through his hands and crashed onto the parquet wood floor.

"Fuck!" he cried.

"Is that any way to greet your G.P.?" Eric said as he was strutting through the front entrance.

Patterson Glover had just had the wind knock out of him. Poor fool, he should know by now.

"What? No hug? You wound me," Mr Tall-and-Blond placed his hand over his undead heart and then extended his arms out.

Left with no recourse, Patterson locked his feeble arms around Eric's wide back.

"Patti," Eric mumbled in his embrace.

"Yes, Eric?" he answered glancing up.

Overlooking his shoulder, Eric asked, "Why do I seem to be caught in a Dear Abby/Martha Stewart nightmare of epic proportions?"

There on both coffee tables sat about 50 folders labeled "Dear Abby". . .and alongside them were every Martha Stewart magazine since the start of the fall season. Put simply. Eric was in hell.

"Mum." He was feeling really badly for the unjolly blond giant. "She wanted them ALL out when she got home," he said with a small, sad smile.

Eric's pale blue indigo eyes started pinking up.

He quietly said, "Oh," then his beautiful, soft lips arranged into a straight, hard line.

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**AN: Poor Viking! Questions, anyone? BwaHaHa. What did you think about Patterson? I'm already crushing on him a wee bit. So who can tell me what "G.P." stands for when Patterson uses it for Eric? Raise your hands up high.**

**Please let me know what you think. Things will get much clearer next chappie. This one was pretty much filler. There will more of young Patterson and how he came about to be next chappie next week.  
**


	4. The Nibblers

**AN:** Hello peeps! I know this story has seemed like it's going in too many directions. Remember, it's my first fan fic. However, I have been fixing that and it should make more sense with this chappie and on.

**Time Line (were trying to play catch-up to present day).** We are _still_ at two weeks _before_ present day. (Still the same night from CH3).

Everything _will_ tie together. I promise. And it will have surprises! Also, I've gotten more comfortable writing lemons, especially with the Eric & Sookie companion piece I wrote last weekend titled, "Last Call" (see my profile). So we may see more of those!

Again, I own nothing (except for my vampy version of B&N and it's inhabitants). **I just want to be needy and deserving of Eric's gracious plentiness. All of it.**

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**Chapter 4: The Nibblers**

As Pam was making the rounds, or as she graciously referred to it, "showing off the goods," she noticed Eric had already left the premises. Good. The beast was contained for the moment.

Relieved but unsure, she entered the office that she shared with Eric. His massive, 18th century, mahogany desk was the first thing visible to the eye. It was a desk fit for a king, which Eric could be, if he so wanted it.

Instead, Eric was content being the Sheriff of Area 5. This was his very own slice of Northern Louisiana and he managed it, much like a farmer tended to his crops. He disposed of the bad ones (and made compost) and let the good ones flourish so they could be collected come harvest time. His area was known to be very profitable.

_Master_. Her thoughts reminisced to this very desk, how he would swing his long, lithe legs across it on an evening basis, usually conducting Fangtasia or Area 5 business. Glancing around she spotted a bright pink post-it on his computer monitor. It was a handwritten note addressed to her.

_Pam, I have gone for the evening. My car will remain in the car park. Allow Felicia to handle closing and get yourself some proper dinner and rest. I suspect you are feeling better, yes? -Eric_

"O-kay. I suspect your are feeling better? What does that mean exactly?" she huffed. Her fangs dug into her plump lower lip. "My master and his pseudo-clever questioning," she mumbled to herself in annoyance.

Still, he was gone, for that she could be grateful.

The events that had transpired earlier in this very office were still bothering her. One moment she was working on merchandise orders and the very next, she was waking up wet and wild. We're talking wet, in a juices-running-down-the-thighs type of wetness. Why did she not remember what had happened? She was having what humans called, "'black outs," which was most unsettling. She recalled Abby writing about humans "blacking out' after they had had excess alcohol. _What's happening to me? I am a vampire, not some stupid drunk!_

Her wet and aroused state was not of any consequence, for she had not any qualms around Eric. He was both her creator and master, someone who had raised her in the imperial vampire ways. Her Master both loved and appreciated her for the sexy vampire woman she'd become. Part of Pam's uniqueness was how sexual a being she really was-well seeing how Eric was equally as sexual or even more-so, maybe it would be fair to say that they were more like two vampires in a bloodied, titanium coffin. It was not unusual to be your master's sexual mate and she had been so most willingly.

Her situation was a most advantageous one. Eric, her master, not only saw to her every need, but had in his possession the finest, hardest member of which she had _ever_ seen, felt or even heard of (and she had seen her fair share in her 250 years)!

Eric managed to wield and thrust that gracious member in the most savviest, richest and delicious of ways. . . there remained not a woman (nor man) left with their faculties fully functioning thereafter.

Yes. Eric, the Viking was an illustrious gods-send, especially to the undernourished, orgasm-deprived masses. _Hallelujah. Hallelujah._

There were tales written and passed along from generation to generation detailing the Viking's engaging sexual prowess throughout the ages. His anatomy (especially the lower half) was plentiful beyond imagination and he graciously bestowed it upon the needy and deserving. Thus, it was aptly named, the Gracious Plenty.

To see him was to ache. To bed him was to bake in your own juices. Enviably, pleasure was always forthcoming in the naughty Northman nest. Understandably, she and Eric spent half a century together.

Another thing to be noted, Pam loved her Master dearly. Therefore, she was unwavering in her loyalty to him. . .that is until the dreams started. Those delirious but delicious dreams which seemed to appear out of split air. Naked Sookie haunted her dreams so often, that she thought of them as her "Nookie" visions.

These dreams were not only tolerable, but extremely pleasant to experience. Thinking about these saucy images gave her an instant vampy hard-on (or as she called it, a "vamp-on"), which automatically made her fangs descend in pleasure.

Never mind that Eric absolutely hated the term, 'vamp-on.' He kept reminding her that it sounded like one of those feminine hygiene articles that human women wore during menses. _What a waste of blood. I'm sure Sookie doesn't have to wear them that time of month. Dinner on tap. Yum!_

Of course, if Sookie knew of Pam's mental sexcapades, she would most definitely be mortified. "That busty, Bon Temp blondie can be such a prude due to that Southern, human upbringing of hers!" she thought aloud.

However, if Eric _ever_ knew of their existence, Pam would be roasting as a big, blonde chestnut on an open fire, no doubt on the front steps of Fangtasia. The thought sent revolting shivers down her spine.

Reapplying her deep mauve lipstick, she straightened up and went to look for Felicia and her staff.

Just as she was getting ready to head home, her mobile rang.

"This is Pam," she answered.

"Ms. Ravenscroft?"

"Yes. Who else would answer my phone?" she questioned while she smoothed out her hair.

"This is Rod from Books & Nibblers on Payne Street," he declared. "How are you this evening?" he added a little too happily.

"Get on with it, buttercup. I don't have all night," Pam huffed.

"Umm. Yes," he answered nervously. "Your order is here, ma'am.

Three Lego sets: one Lego Viking Ship, one Lego Harry Potter Hogwarts Castle and one Lego Creator House. You may pick them up at your own convenience or have your day person come in anytime this week," he informed her.

"Good," she finally smiled. "I've been expecting them. I will be there shortly, myself."

"As you wish," he replied courteously and hung up.

Since Pam's trip down to Books & Nibblers (B&N) was a lone one, it would mostly be uneventful, save for the items she was picking up of course. Next to a feed, whilst doing the deed, Legos were therapeutic, constructive fun!

"A 20th century marvel!" her fellow Lego-vites heartily agreed just recently at the Twenty-Fifth Annual Lego Vamps Classic in New Orleans. Vampires were incredibly fast. But were they as creative as they so believed? That was the challenge.

Perusing the items at the front counter, she spotted something that caught her eye. _Edward. _She added two Edward bookmarks to her purchases. Even she was not immune to the charms of Edward Cullen. He _was_ a looker.

Truthfully, she thought that her Patterson was even better looking than Edward Cullen. People kept remarking how much Pat resembled the actor who played Edward. _P-lease. Patterson beats him by leaps and bounds. _Still, she bought him a bookmark. It would annoy him fully and that would please her.

As Pam was putting her credit card away, the vampire bookseller, asked her to wait a moment. There was a special order in the back for a 'Ms. Pamela Ravenscroft.' He returned in a flash with a wrapped copy of Knitting for Dummies. It was from Eric. The "Dummies" part was just to make fun of her! Cheeky but cute. Sookie was right when she said that Eric was a pain in her ass.

She was smiling to herself, when Thomas gave her a well-meaning nod from across the aisle. He was by her side in an instant. "I believe there is an inscription," he said.

_Pamela, my dear. I saw this at the library some time ago. I thought you might find it to your tastes. The page on scarves was interesting. Red suits me very well. Happy knitting! - Eric_

Thomas Nook was the dead owner of the establishment. He was a fellow Brit and a recent transplant from the U.K. He hadn't even been in the States for a full decade. _Newbie_.

Eric was pleased to have him reside in his area, and even more pleased to have him set up shop with a profitable business. He quite liked the English, except for that little nasty episode involving The Plague.

"We have some new Seuss coming in this week. Leather-bound too," he quietly remarked to her. "Give my regards to Patterson." He nodded and was off in a flash.

When Pam finally arrived home, she found her abode quiet and empty.

Patterson, however, had not forgotten her earlier request of him.

"Most excellent," she beamed, readying herself a cozy spot on the sofa.

Next, she headed to the kitchen to prepare dinner for one. She would follow Eric's orders and eat well tonight. So wanting a special treat, she forgo-ed the regular, somewhat nasty TruBlood. In it's stead, she heated a bottle of Sang Royale, which Eric had ordered a few cases of for special occasions.

The French import did not disappoint. Sang Royale was as it's name stated, royal blood. The decadent combination of royal vampire blood, royal human blood and regular human blood was exquisite to the palate. "_Delicious," _thought Pam as she poured it into a wine glass.

Grabbing the blanket over the sofa, she placed files A through E by her side and delightfully placed the latest Martha Stewart Living magazine on her lap. Patterson thought of everything! She would have to wrap her earlier purchases soon and surprise him with them.

For now though, the Dear Abby discoverthon would commence. It would not be until one hour before sunrise, that she would actually cease her Abby fun. A warm bath beckoned.

But first, it was "time to maintain target practice," she thought as she walked on, lightly scratching through her lady bits.

* * *

**AN:** BwahHaHa. If you don't remember Pam's "target," you need to re-read chapter 2, The Multi-tasker. Yup. If you haven't read "Last Call" yet, you ought to. It's an Eric/Sookie companion piece to this one. I have been told it's kinda hawt and erotic! If you have, you'll know what I mean.

Btw, I know I said this chappie would be about Patterson, but Pam needed to get her night going and get to Books & Nibblers. I don't care if they're open all night. Pam needed to shop! Patterson's history will be in the forthcoming chapters. What else should they sell there at Books & Nibblers?

Thanks for tuning in. I love to read all your reviews, they make my day! FYI- I'm hoping to make updates on Thursdays. Put me on 'Alerts' and stay tuned!

Btw, links for Pam's LEGO purchases are on my profile.

**Reviews are like hallelujahs in joining the naughty, Northman nest! Review, please!**


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